He Was Still There
by The Tiramisu Of Impending Doom
Summary: [one shot] A woman looks back on her life and remembers the people in it, but she is not alone.


He Was Still There

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 7 and all its characters, places, and events belong to Squenix. The original characters and story belong to me. Don't sue because this is just for fun.

She didn't want to lie down yet. She knew what would happen if she did. Instead, she slowly made her way to the white curtain and drew it back to survey the children in the town square, the town so much like her home and yet not so similar; it held as many memories but it lacked several familiar faces. She was never like any of those children, running freely and playing happily. She was always shy… and it had been a troubled life for her, and she only felt truly safe as a child around her father. And then she only felt safe around her husband.

She brought her hand away from the curtain to let it hang back into place and her gaze strayed to the wedding band on her finger.

She never had any children with Matthew Stone to see him in them, but she memorized the sound of his laughter and so she heard him all the time whenever she was alone. And his words stayed with her, particularly his last.

"_You always were a shy one, weren't you, Marlene? And yet… so strong…"_

And then he told her that she was a good woman for taking care of him, and that he loved her. His last breath. It was so cliché and yet there was nothing better for him to say.

And she had so much yet to tell him. All those words she left unsaid rang loudly in her ears, when she couldn't hear his laughter.

It was so depressing—draining, even—when her loved ones died all around her. First her father, who had given her the best hugs in the world, even though his beard scratched her face and even though he had a bad mouth and was hardly ever home when she needed him. And then Tifa, who was like a big sister and like a mother. She always gave Marlene something to smile about, and helped her to be strong… and then her husband… He'd always made her feel like a good woman. And he showed her what true love was—it was so wonderful to experience the real thing after hearing myths and other people experience... He was gone… but…

…But there was one... He was still there.

Without having to look up, she knew he still stood in the room, just shy of the doorway. The silent watchman and her only company. Her only friend…

"You're still here," she breathed, tears welling up in her eyes. It was difficult not to cry; she could feel Death nearby, coming for her soon. But Death was fair with her this time. She wouldn't leave any words left unsaid.

Without looking up at him, somewhat embarrassed by his eternal youth and his calm manner and perhaps still a bit coy in his presence as she ever was, she carefully brought herself to the bed and laid her head back against the pillow to stare up at the ceiling. She hated these hospital rooms. Always so sterile and quiet, with the heater on the wall the only sound to fill the room.

"I promised I would watch over you," he reminded her softly.

She nodded slowly, remembering. Her father had forced the man to make a promise to watch over her, before he, like her husband, left her. Not willingly, she knew. Barret Wallace had always been a stubborn man, so stubborn that it took him time to explain who her real father was. Who Dyne was. But he always loved her. She never doubted that for a minute, even though he was always leaving. Fighting for the planet. The planet came first, after all.

"Yes," she whispered. "You took care of me, even then…"

"…How are you feeling?"

His voice sounded so cold, so detached, and yet she knew he was sincere. But he was always a quiet man, and she couldn't help but believe that he became even quieter after Tifa Lockheart died. And he didn't break his promise. Tifa once told her the importance of promises.

"I'm fine, Vincent," she said softly, and forced herself to look over at him—

He'd always moved like a wraith or a shadow, with no sound at all, and he was already standing at her bedside, his hands of flesh and metal clenched into fists at his sides while he surveyed her with those bright red eyes. She could not fathom any emotion in those eyes but she silently wanted to believe that there was something there…

"Are you happy, Vincent?" she asked. "With… with your life?" Perhaps a lame question, under the circumstances. At least, she could have worded them better…

"It seems to be an endless cycle of torment," he intoned blandly, "completely void of all hope…"

She frowned at his answer, but felt strangely uplifted—somewhat—by his next words.

"…And yet… I have loved as much as I have lost… I am unsure of how to feel."

Thinking like a scientist in matters of the heart. What a mistake that was. But he was always uncertain in his life, not quite knowing what he was searching for, and when he found what he needed he rejected it until he could no longer fight… and he…

He was still there…

"Are you happy, Marlene?"

"…I am… only because I have you here with me…"

He smiled at her, she was sure. His lips weren't in as straight a line as they were before.

"I will never understand why you both felt that way," he murmured.

"She would want you to be happy, you know… She wanted you to live a new life." _That's what she told you…_

Speaking her name was not necessary.

"I will try," he returned tightly.

She smiled weakly. It was hurting her to breathe, to smile. The nurses had said it would not be long.

And he was still there.

"Will you be there for your daughter too?"

"Until her last breath and long after," he informed her without hesitation.

She closed her eyes. Her tears were uncooperative and burning her face. She opened her eyes again when she felt his hand rest upon her shoulder.

"Do you want anything, Marlene?"

She swallowed hard. Vincent brushed her tears aside with the back of his fingers. She took his hand in hers. They were such long, elegant fingers, ivory and smooth against her wrinkled, tiny ones. He was always a beautiful thing to her. Ethereal and mysterious. Calm and quiet and ever-present.

Yes, he was always there, wasn't he?

She shook her head. "Your daughter, Vincent—"

"She's with her friends… at the diner."

"Yes… Yes, I know…" She took in a shaky breath and let it out. It wouldn't be long now. He was still there.

"Just take care of her, Vincent."

"I told you I would."

"I know… but… promise me…"

"…Marlene…"

"…Promise me," she insisted.

A sigh. "I promise."

She smiled in satisfaction. "I will miss you, Vincent. Will you miss me?" She was only talking to keep herself sane now. Of course he would mourn her loss. Vincent was not as emotionless as he often made himself out to be.

"Dearly…"

"Then do not forget… that there are always reasons to smile."

Silence.

"…Vincent?"

"I will not forget, Marlene," he whispered.

She gave another feeble smile and closed her eyes. She felt his warm hand in hers. He was still there; he would not leave her until she couldn't feel anything anymore…

This calmed her, and she took a few several breaths more. Death was not late or early. He did his work at a proper time, even though he was always there.

And… she could hear familiar laughter… He was there too, wasn't he?

She let herself drift into sleep, and even further than sleep, and... and soon he was gone… and she was gone… but she was happy.

A/N part one: This is another one shot written in the wee hours of the AM, so excuse me if it's poor. I was in a sullen mood.

A/N part two: This idea is based on Vincent being immortal or at least unable to age, and that Tifa and Vincent were/are a couple with a daughter. I also imagine that Barret, Tifa, and Vincent are the ones that matter the most to Marlene in this storyline. This does not relate to my other fanfics really, but it gives a few obvious references to "Reasons to Smile." That "he's still there" theme could refer to Death, Vincent, and/or her husband. Depending on where you see it in the story. But yeah, as I said, I was depressed when I wrote this. Please leave a review.


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